


The Day the Light Went Out

by SoftLullaby



Series: Embers of Heaven's Wrath [1]
Category: The Sword of Truth - Terry Goodkind, World of Warcraft
Genre: Not a Love Story, Origin Story, Original Character(s), Other
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-08-12
Updated: 2017-08-12
Packaged: 2018-12-14 12:02:36
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,009
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11782761
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SoftLullaby/pseuds/SoftLullaby
Summary: Twin sisters, Emberliegh and Heavenliegh Dawnglory, a mage and a priest. One compels the other to forget, but something goes terribly wrong.





	The Day the Light Went Out

**Author's Note:**

> Hi!
> 
> Emberliegh and Heavenliegh are two of my all-time favorite World of Warcraft characters. This is the origin story, how things began for them, and the disaster they now face - as told from Heavenliegh's perspective. I included Sword of Truth in my tags simply because the idea of the spell Emberliegh used originated in that series. 
> 
> There's a lot more behind it, of course, a way to mesh it into World of Warcraft, but I intend to write more installments. Those, however, may not be in order... I write the scenes as they come to me.

I can hear the sound of crackling fire all around me. It shimmers before my eyes, sizzles to life as it takes everything by force. The heat is intense as it weaves before me in unnatural lines; a web of tendrils etched in the inferno before me, all around me. I can scarcely breathe from the weight of the heat upon my small body. I can feel the sweat as it forms, but the heat is so intense the perspiration evaporates the moment it surfaces above the pores.

Just beyond the wall of flaming spiderweb before me I can see violet eyes gleaming with an ember-hued shade. For the briefest of moments, I know who she is, but as the inferno dances with brighter intensity it begins to fade. Those eyes become unfamiliar to me, even as the hatred and cruelty burning within them cuts me.

Who is this stranger? Why does she hate me so much? What did I do?

As I stare at her, trying to discern the reason for such intense emotion directed my way, I notice the way her fingers lay upon the barbaric torc encircling her thin throat. The way she touches it strikes me as odd; it is a touch equal parts tenderness and fear. I wonder perhaps if this thing is another key to the puzzle.

As I look upward, I notice that she is trying to speak. Her lips are forming words. I strain to hear past the deafening firestorm enveloping me. “I’ll figure it out,” I finally discern. Figure it out? Blinking, I try to work out what she means, but it is so difficult. So very difficult. I strain further, trying to read her lips as she continues to speak. I can make out more words here and there: ‘prison’. That happens to be the one word that strikes me hardest.

“Prison..?” I barely realize that I have spoken, and the voice which speaks startles me. I know that my lips uttered the sound, but it is not something I can recall hearing. The sound of my own voice frightens me. It should be familiar, but this is not. This is alien. As the fear slides over my nerve endings, caustic yet smooth at the same time, I abandon my search for her words to delve introspectively into my own. I open my mouth to speak, but fear has paralyzed my vocal cords.

I cannot say a word. I am afraid to. Afraid that the moment I make a sound, it will frighten me further. I am afraid to prove to myself that I have forgotten the sound of my own voice.

It is then that I realize something else. Something far more vital climbs into my soul, shredding it from the inside out. I have forgotten something even more important. This loss cuts me far more deeply than the fear of forgetting the sound of my voice. That I could correlate to fear at my situation, but not this. This loss is more poignant than the other.

I have forgotten who I am.

Where there should have been a well of memories in my head, I encounter nothing but space. The memories that are there skitter just out of reach each time I grasp for them, and when I finally manage to close my fingers around them, they escape in tiny tendrils of smoke, only to vanish into nothingness. My memories, precious things, are vanishing.

“What are you doing to me?!” I finally manage to cry, relieved to hear that my voice has not changed. Yet I am terrified that the next instant I speak, I will forget that I have recently heard it utter words. My entire body is trembling and I find myself on the verge of collapse; if not for the roiling fire-web all around me, no doubt I would have sunk to the ground before now.

It is that net of inferno which keeps me standing, I realize. I know not whether I should be grateful, angry, terrified, or overcome with despair. I suspect that I am all four. Or perhaps I would be if I knew what all I had lost. At least like this, ignorant, unknowing, I can pretend that I do not feel any of these things. All but the fear. I cannot deny the fear.

As I sink carefully to my knees – it seems to happen in slow motion as I avoid the fiery wrath before me – the noise of the inferno dies down. The constant roiling and roaring calms, although the fire itself remains. It seems to have stabilized; the burning ember spiderweb resorting to uniformity before my very eyes. Yet this does not calm my pounding heart. “What have you done to me..?” I ask, my voice a whisper of sound; that alien voice I eerily cannot recall, is it truly mine?

“This is your fault!” comes the defensive reply, and the voice is almost a mirror of my own. The inflection is slightly higher pitched than mine, but the similarity still resonates. I look up in her direction and wonder for a moment if we share a similar visage. Again, her fingertips touch the collar almost hesitantly, as if afraid the touch itself might damage it somehow. Or perhaps as though the touch would damage the wearer somehow. “If you hadn’t put this accursed thing on me, I could still stop this madness!”

I can see the flash of fear registering in her eyes as the brilliant embers began to die down. The glow became less intense – or was it just that my eyes adjusted?

I do not know what the chainfire is, but I feel as though it must be the web surrounding me. I begin to wonder if the way my memory fades is a result of it, and if I am truly to blame for it. I cannot recall what the barbaric thing around her neck even does, but I find I have to know. The question burns with me, and I plead with my eyes for knowledge. “What did I do? How can I fix it? Please, I do not remember…”

True fear registers in her ultraviolet gaze. “You don’t remember…” Her complexion pales and I see helplessness in her eyes. “It’s over. It’s really over. Oh, Heaven…” She too sinks to her knees, on eye level with me. I see those things I should feel in her eyes: terror, despair, anger. “You’re the only one who can fix it, and now… you can’t even remember how.” I can hear the mournful note in her voice.

“I am sorry,” I manage to say. What else is there? I have this fear within me that I am the only one who can reverse this, but without the knowledge of how, we are doomed. I can feel the web around me tightening, and it sears my soul. It is erasing me, I realize. Not just my memories, but  _me._ My existence, my life. It is burning the mark of my soul from the very world around me.

I can feel the magic bleeding my existence from the world around me, and it terrifies me. I can feel nothing but this oppressive fear. I am helpless; both me and the girl beyond the fire are helpless. We are bound to one another by fate. She is twined to me. Even though I have no idea how, I know it has to be. I can feel the connection.

I am already on my knees, and I have seen her sink to hers. She hates me. I can see that now. I can see it burning in the ultraviolet of her eyes. Alongside it is the same fear I feel. I wish I could reach out to her, to let her know I would do anything in my power to help her, if only I knew how.

“What happens now..?” I whisper, settling for laying my palms flat on the floor in front of me. As I lean forward slightly, my hair spills across my brow, and it is an amber color. The brilliant inferno around me paints it in a similar fire-gold glow as her hair. Somehow, I knew it would. I feel a single droplet of dampness hit the back of a hand and blink. I realize then that I am crying. I wonder how long I have been crying. “What can I do..?”

“Nothing…” the girl in front of me says, and she ducks her head. Her own wild hair is like a curtain, surrounding her face. I can hear the slight catch in her words; she’s just as frightened as I am. “There’s nothing that either of us can do, Heaven… Nothing. The chainfire will run its course. It will… erase you completely. And because of this stupid thing-” she touches the torc around her neck for a minute, pausing “-I cannot stop it.”

The sudden and sharp pang of fear hits me harder than the rest. “Erase me?” It is barely even a whisper of sound as I speak. I doubt she can even hear me. The tears pour even faster now. “What does that mean? Erase me, how?”

She does not say anything at first. She just sits there on her knees, hands balled into fists on her thighs. Her hair hangs limply before her and I hate it. I hate that I cannot see her face. It is a desperation which claims me; desperation to connect with her. I fear that I will never again be able to truly connect if I cannot with her.

But I am also terrified at her words. I can feel it happening. It feels as though I am vanishing. I am afraid to talk because when I do, I know that I will not recognize my voice. At the same time, I am afraid the longer I go without saying anything, the more likely it will be that I will forget. “Please,” I say. I am begging her.

She at last looks up, eyes staring hopelessly into mine from beyond the limp veil her tendrils of hair present. “I’m sorry,” she whispers, and I can hear the pain in her voice. “I only wanted to help, but instead… I have ruined everything. I’m so, so sorry, Heaven.” The last few words crack, rife with emotion, and I can feel panic rising within me. I can see her hesitate, but the quietly-spoken plea of mine must have pushed her. “I… should have studied it longer. I’m sorry, Heaven, I thought it would erase your memories, I thought that was all it would do. I’m unprepared for its true insidiousness.” She takes in a sharp breath.

Although her words confuse me, they also serve to stem the rising panic within me. I calm, but it is a hopeless sort of calm. “What… insidiousness?” The words come out, unfamiliar once more, and I know soon I will forget even the path of this conversation.

As if sensing this, she says quietly, “It means to erase you from the world. It’s not simply removing your memories; it’s removing your place in the world. All the interactions you’ve made, all the friendships, all the good you have done… It’s erasing that. Soon… you will be nothing more than a phantom…”

That word hits me harder than the rest. “Phantom…” I echo, a slight whisper, but then everything begins to blur. My vision, the words, this conversation, my heart… I can feel it, and it feels rather like falling in slow-motion from the top of a dangerous precipice.

_Light help me_ , is the last thought that goes through my mind before a darkness so absolute no light could possibly permeate it overtakes me, plunging me into a true sea of nothingness, and consciousness is the briefest shadow of memory before it, too, evaporates into a single wisp of smoke. Dreamless, weightless, I know no other state of existence but this endless sea of black sleeplessness.

For now, I am not afraid.


End file.
